


The Treaty of Bokusouchi

by 100demons



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Compliant, During the Time Skip, Gen, Mission Fic, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five Konoha shinobi have disappeared, presumably taken captive by Iwagakure. </p><p>The fragile treaty between Iwa and Konoha threatens to shatter, but Tsunade is determined the protect the peace between the two hidden villages. She's decided to send a team of her finest ninja on a dangerous diplomatic mission to find the missing Konoha ninja, where one wrong step means war.</p><blockquote>
  <p>Tsunade paused for a moment, watching the four ninja standing in front of her. Yuuhi stood tall and straight, carrying herself with a careful, dangerous presence; Asuma was a wide, burly looking wall beside her, all muscle and sinew and implacable strength; Kakashi slouched beside him, looking mangy and battered in his torn flak vest and dirty jounin blues; and finally, Shizune, who gave Tsunade a small, knowing look as she stood at attention in front of her old master.</p>
  <p>“I’m sending you four because you’re the best we have. Do the village proud,” Tsunade said finally and waved her hand in dismissal.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to deiectus for beta'ing the first chapter!

Nine minutes before her alarm clock went off, Kurenai woke up to sound of bells chiming. Next to her, Asuma shifted a little, but kept snoring, each puff of air tickling the back of her neck. The curve of his arm around her waist was a familiar, comfortable brand of heat, his chakra signature rippling and curling around her own.

The bells rang again, scraping against her chakra in a way that made her teeth ache.

Kurenai slitted one eye open. Her new digital clock blinked back at her in stark red lines: 5 : 21. _Damn it._ She made a sloppy half-seal, overflowing with chakra, and let it flow through the room. A dozen blue strings shimmered through the room, criss-crossing around her in a complex web.

The glittering black string that lead to the kitchen shivered, and made that terrible nerve-jangling noise again.

Kurenai cut the jutsu and the chakra strings faded away into the ether. It couldn’t be another damned mission; it had been only three days since she got off her last one. Six for Asuma, who was technically still on medical leave after tearing his ACL.

“Damn,” Kurenai swore again quietly, this time out loud. Asuma made a sleepy, incomprehensible noise, his beard scraping against the soft skin of her neck. His arm tightened around her.

In the far corner of the room, she could see the faint shadows his crutches made against her vanity table. Six days, and yet. Kurenai twined her fingers around his, callouses brushing against callouses, for just one heartbeat’s time.

Then she pushed his arm away and rolled out of bed.

She grabbed the nearest shirt she could find and shoved it over her head, pulling her hair into a messy top knot with the hair tie dangling from her wrist. It was a baggy old jounin blue shirt, the hems of it going halfway down her thighs, and thick with the smell of smoke.

Absent-mindedly, she stuck a thumb through a hole in the edge of a sleeve, revealing the fine silver mesh hidden beneath the blue polymer fabric. He’d nicked it while sharpening his kunai a couple of months ago, and it had only gotten bigger since then. He was always stupidly hard on his clothes, even when he had been a genin.

She padded into the kitchen, following the instinctual hum of the chakra string, all the way to the window overlooking the sink. Instead of the small, familiar black messenger bird used by the Mission Desk, something large and red sat patiently in the middle of her planter box full of violets.

The Hokage’s personal messenger hawk blinked slowly at her as she undid the seal on the window with one hand, pushing it open with the other. An iridescent chakra seal marked its flame-tipped wings with the personal emblem of the Godaime Hokage.

It was eerily silent as it stuck out its leg toward her. Kurenai undid the canister with careful hands, mindful of the razor sharp talons curling just centimeters from her skin. As soon as Kurenai drew away, the bird unfurled its wings and leapt into the sky without a sound, the rising sun turning its crimson feathers into a living fire.

“Well, you don’t see that every day,” Asuma said behind her, one arm curling snake-quick around her waist and pulling her into a hug. “Pretty as hell, though.” He pressed his chin against the top of her head, blanketing her in warmth and soft, soothing ripples of his chakra.

Tension she didn’t even know she had slowly leaked out of her shoulders as Kurenai relaxed into his embrace. She still held the canister in one tight fist.

“You didn’t actually end up murdering your landlord, did you?”

Kurenai snorted and jabbed him awkwardly in the ribs. “Don’t be silly, if I really did end up killing Mitsuzawa, no one would ever find out.”

“That’s my girl,” Asuma laughed, pressing a quick kiss to her head. “Though I’d be happy to help you with any corpse disposal you require.”

“My thanks,” Kurenai said, dry. She nudged herself out of the hug and over to the cabinet hanging over the countertop. Coffee, then potentially earth-shattering personal messages from the Hokage. Asuma let her go easily, though she instantly missed his warmth as he stepped awkwardly aside without putting weight on his left leg, plopping himself down on a kitchen chair.

“Hold this for me,” she said, tossing the message canister over her head. “D’you want a cup?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Asuma groaned, like a man begging for water in the middle of a Wind Country desert. “Gods, yes. It’s too damned early for this.”

She filled up two mugs (BEST SENSEI EVER, LOVE TEAM 8 on one and KONOHA KUNOICHI ASSOC. on the other) with water from the sink, then ripped open two instant packets of coffee, shoving them into the full mugs and stirring hastily with a take away chopstick she found in one of the drawers. Clumps of congealed coffee crystals bobbed unpleasantly on the surface.

Carefully, she formed another half-seal, drawing up molded chakra within her and letting it filter slowly through the ceramic mugs. In a moment, the coffee began steaming gently, then began to boil, grayish brown bubbles bursting and exploding. She cut the heat after a couple of seconds, then carried both mugs over the table.

Kurenai slid the one with the chopstick still floating in it over to Asuma, who caught it just before it spilled all over the table.

“My favorite,” he smiled, crows’ feet crinkling in the corner of his eyes. “Yuuhi Sludge.” He was sitting uncomfortably in a wooden chair, left leg stretched out all the way, his right leg curled underneath him. The dappled sunlight, filtering through the kitchen shades, cast shadows over his bare brown skin, the shiny stretched marks of scars long-healed.

Kurenai rolled her eyes and sipped from her mug. The coffee tasted burnt and bitter on her tongue, was heated to the point of scalding flesh, and was therefore absolutely perfect.

Asuma dragged the ashtray over from the middle of the table along with a crumpled pack of Lucky Leaves. He fished out cigarette, lighting it with a snap of his fingers and a tiny spark of chakra.

Shit coffee, Asuma, the soft smoke of cigarettes. Kurenai pushed back, balancing on the back two legs of her chair. The axis of her world revolved around this room. Small things, simple things.

The tin canister sat in front of her on the table, promising none of those.

Kurenai let the chair fall back onto all four legs and picked it up. A quick twist of chakra popped the cap and two thin scrolls fell into her palm, heavy with the weight of chakra seals.

“Oh?” She flicked one up to reveal the wax seal holding it closed. It was marked with the kanji for Sarutobi.

“I think this one’s yours,” she said slowly, checking the other message. It was marked with her own name. “I think she sent them together.”

Asuma blew out a long stream of smoke. “That sounds distinctly not good on so many different levels.” He held out his free hand and caught the message neatly with two fingers.

The message scroll required another twist of chakra and a drop of her blood-- Kurenai bit down on her thumb and smeared it over the wax seal. The embedded kanji briefly glowed blue before dissolving away, paper edges unfurling into a small message.

**Yuuhi Kurenai, jounin, ID 010881**

_The Hokage requests and requires your presence at 0700 on the seventh day of the seventh month._

It was signed with a bloody thumbprint.

The bottom fell out of her stomach. Wordless, she looked up, and saw ash fall away from the corner of Asuma’s mouth like an extended comma, the end of the cigarette burning cherry-red and unsmoked.

He flipped the paper over at her with slightly unsteady hands. Except for the salutations, the messages were mirror images of each other.

Her alarm clock began to shriek loudly, cutting through the sudden, tight silence. Kurenai flicked her eyes over to the clock blinking over the gas range. 5 : 30.

“Ah,” Kurenai said. “Guess we should start getting ready.”

 

* * *

 

“Good work, Katou-sensei.”

Shizune cut the foot pedal on the sink and shook out her dripping hands over the sink. “Thank you, Kenta,” she said, taking the towel he was holding out and drying her hands with it. Her chakra moved sluggishly in her coils, too drained to even manage the small, simple seals that would evaporate the water on her hands, turning condensation into vapor.

Kenta nodded at her respectfully, then began to flip open the clipboard he carried in the crook of his elbow. “The operation ran later than expected, but you should still have enough time to manage a quick breakfast and a stop by the post-surgery ward before heading over to morning rounds with your students.”

“Couldn’t be helped,” Shizune sighed, draping the damp towel over her sweat-soaked hair. “The damage to the nerves was a lot more severe than I thought, and regenerating the new meninges became difficult when the first focus combusted.” The thick tail of hair had crumbled into ash mid-way through the pia mater and it took nearly an hour to stabilize the patient, stop the surgery, and hold the regeneration in place before the second back-up focus could be re-integrated with the chakra working.

One slip, one misplaced moment, and the entire surgery would have unraveled like a frayed thread. She would have lost her controlled grip on the patient’s heart and lungs. She let out a slow, deep breath, and pushed all thoughts of failure out of her mind.

Kenta made a note on the clipboard with a quick dash of his pen. “Expected outcome?”

Shizune rubbed her hair dry, then let the towel fall around her neck. “He’ll need extensive PT before I can say anything with confidence, but he should at least be out of the wheelchair. I can’t say for sure if he’ll ever be mission fit again, but we’ll see.”

“Very good, sensei. I’ll send your notes over to Nakajima-sensei in post-surge to look over.”

Shizune set a brisk pace as she walked down the hallway and out of the operating ward, pushing through the automated doors with Kenta fast on her heels as they went through the daily schedule. Post-surgery ward with Nakajima, then morning rounds with the students, then the monthly meeting with the department heads, followed by a working lunch with Sakura while they went over the latest treatise she had assigned. Later in the day, she had her afternoon appointments with her ANBU patients with S and A-rank security clearance levels, and the day would be rounded out with Tsunade-sama, Kotetsu-kun and Izumi-kun over dinner, going over the more aggravating bits of village paperwork.

Shizune tore open a ration bar and chewed mindlessly on it as Kenta rattled off the list of things on her itinerary.

“...And I also received a message from Shikakau-sama about the continuing education seminar you’re organizing for the jounin later this month on the latest poisons out of Kiri--”

Chakra flared just a half-second before a small, lithe body tumbled around the corner of the hallway, clad in the gray and blacks of the chuunin messengers. Shizune automatically caught the thin girl by the shoulders, green chakra flaring to life in her hands.

A quick diagnostic check revealed only exhaustion and fatigued muscles. Shizune still swept a wave of shimmering chakra through her body, easing the strain on the young girl’s inflamed chakra coils.

“Katou-sama,” the messenger bowed awkwardly, still caught in Shizune’s grip. The tense lines of her forehead faded away as she breathed in deeply. “Thank you for that.”

“Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t do better,” Shizune said firmly, giving her shoulder a squeeze before letting go. “Now, what is it?”

The messenger unhooked the satchel over her shoulder and opened it with practiced grace and a twist of chakra. Thin silver links ran from one end of the bag to a black bracelet on the girl’s slim wrist, glittering with blue chakra-fire sigils.

Ah, not just a chuunin messenger. She was a Hokage’s Messenger, one of Tsunade-sama’s specially trained couriers, trusted with high security documents that needed to be hand-carried and delivered.

The messenger pulled out a scroll and bowed again, holding it out with both hands. “Katou Shizune-sama, from the Godaime Hokage.”

Delicately, Shizune plucked it from the girl’s hands and checked the wax seal holding it closed. It was marked with the kanji for her family name, burning with a blood-seal.

Slowly, carefully, Shizune uncurled a thread of chakra and pressed her glowing green index finger against the pad of her thumb. A small cut opened on her skin and leaked a single drop of blood onto the wax seal before healing instantly closed the wound.

**Katou Shizune, jounin, ID 010800**

_The Hokage requests and requires your presence at 0700 on the seventh day of the seventh month._

“I see,” Shizune murmured softly, pressing her thumb over Tsunade-sama’s blood thumbprint. She risked a glance at the small, ticking watch pinned to the shirt pocket of her scrubs. 6 : 54. It seemed as if Tsunade-sama had finally come to a decision about that matter, then.

“Kenta, cancel everything on my schedule.”

Kenta blanched, holding the clipboard tight in his hands. “K-Katou-sensei.”

“Thank you,” Shizune directed at the messenger girl, who was tucking the strap of her satchel over her shoulders again. She bowed deeply, goggles glinting from the electric lights above.

“It was an honor, Katou-sama,” the girl said, before making a hand seal and translocating away. Shizune tucked the message in the pocket of her trousers and began heading for the closest window.

“Katou-sensei!” Kenta called out hurriedly.

“I’ve been called for a meeting,” Shizune said, rolling the sleeves of her white lab coat up to her elbow. “Highest priority. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so clear the entire day and night for me. I’ll send word as soon as I can.”

Kenta’s mouth flattened into a thin line but he nodded right away, furiously taking notes on his clipboard. “Of course, sensei.”

Shizune unlocked the hallway window and slid it all the way open, taking the safety screen off along with it and setting it down on the floor. “And send a message off to Sakura for me, have her on standby. As soon as I get the message out to you, send for her and have ready in my office as soon as I get back.”

She leapt up onto the window frame, steadying herself with one hand as she looked down at the sprawling spread of Konoha, fifteen stories below.

“Sensei?”

“Hm?” Shizune turned her head around, meeting Kenta’s anxious, dark eyes.

“I…” He hesitated a moment before nodding one last time, deep and respectful. “May Amida guide you and Bishamon protect you, wherever this path may lead, Katou-sensei.”

Shizune slanted a small smile at him. “Thank you,” she said, and jumped.

 

* * *

 

The hawk plummeted out of the sky and dropped to the earth, snapping its wings out just seconds before impact. It landed gracefully on Bull’s back, talons ripping through his uniform, but not quite drawing blood.

Kakashi would have killed it for that.

Bull shivered a little, but stayed still as Kakashi knelt down and untangled the scroll container from the messenger hawk’s leg. It stayed for a moment longer to eye the back of Bull’s head before launching itself into the air with a strong buffet of wind, wings streaked with firelight.

“Damned chicken,” Bull grumbled, awkwardly turning his head around to eye the damage on his uniform. “I just got a new one too after that mission over in Rain.”

Kakashi pressed the scroll against the back of a blood and sweat streaked hand; there was enough wet blood to unlock the seal on the small messenger scroll.

**Hatake Kakashi, jounin, ID 009720**

_The Hokage requests and requires your presence at 0630 on the seventh day of the seventh month._

His fingers left dirty prints all over the pristine rice paper, marring the neat calligraphy. He crumpled the paper into a tight ball and incinerated it with a sharp flare of chakra, shaking the ash loose from his hand.

“I’m sorry, Bull, but it looks like we won’t be able to go to the bathhouse right now,” Kakashi said, going down onto one knee. He pressed a gentle hand against Bull’s head, his fingers brushing against the freshly healed scar nicking his ninken’s left ear. “You did good work this past week. I’ll make it up to you later.”

Bull half-snarled and growled, in his own way of laughing. “I’m sure we’ll see each other later, eh?” He twitched his head over to the Tower, exposing his sharp, discoloured canines. “Looks like to me you got another mission comin’ your way, boss.”

Kakashi tilted his head back to check the angle of the sun, shading his eye with a hand. Even still, the light left blue-ish green streaks across his vision, temporarily blinding him.

“Saa, who knows,” he said, blinking rapidly to clear the tears. “I should have enough time to make one last visit though.”

Bull shook himself loose, tossing his heavy head. “Tell Obito I said hello,” he barked before snapping the connection between them in half, heading off to the rest of the pack.

Kakashi shoved his hands in his pockets and made his own way to the Memorial Stone.

 

* * *

 

“You’re early,” Tsunade said, not bothering to turn around and greet the brat properly.

“What?” Kakashi said blankly. “I thought the meeting was at 0630?”

Tsunade couldn’t hide the smirk playing over her lips as she swiveled around in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “For you, it was. For everyone else, it was at 0700. Ah, here they come now.” The doors to her office swung open, a glimmer of her morning ANBU guard’s mask flashing as he let Asuma and Yuuhi into the room. They both looked freshly scrubbed and washed, eyes bright with too much caffeine. Asuma limped in heavily on crutches, a knee brace wrapped around his left leg.

The corner of Tsunade’s mouth curled downward in disapproval. Sloppy, slapdash work. If she had been the one to oversee his care--

She let out a soft sigh. But she wasn’t, not anymore.

“Welcome,” she said, leaning back in her office chair and spreading her hands out on the table. Kakashi’s eye flicked over at her desk, the ANBU guard hovering behind her in the corner, before settling into something like insubordinate boredom. He reeked of sweat and ozone, dried bits of blood flaking off his hair and his flak vest.

Asuma gave her a nod as he came to a stop a foot away from the desk, next to Kakashi. It still caught her breath, sometimes, how startlingly similar he looked to old Sarutobi-sensei in his youth. Underneath that full beard and wild hair, he had the same sharp cheekbones, the heavy dark eyes that saw everything and gave nothing away.

The little squalling baby had grown up into a sharpened weapon of Konoha.

Tsunade looked over at Yuuhi, who was standing by Asuma’s other side, her red eyes deferential. She was, unusually, clad not in jounin blues, but in a sleek red sleeveless outfit with a flak vest over it. She had tight bandages wrapping her hands all the way to her elbows and legs wrapping on her ankles.

Her chakra signature was tightly controlled, nearly on par with Tsunade herself.

Genjutsu, taijutsu, ninjutsu.

“I’m just waiting on one more,” Tsunade said, just as the window behind her cracked open, revealing a flushed Shizune, still clad in her scrubs and a flapping white lab coat.

“My apologies, Tsunade-sama,” Shizune bowed, leaping neatly from the windowsill and onto the ground. The ANBU guard behind Tsunade twitched a little as Shizune flashed a discreet hand signal, too quick for Tsunade to catch.

Well, that had always been the one place Shizune had entered and Tsunade did not.

Shizune made her way past the desk and planted herself firmly beside Kakashi, whose fingers flickered in something that might have been hello.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered the four of you here,” Tsunade began, steepling her fingers together.

“A week ago, I received this message from the Daimyou of Earth Country.” The ANBU guard behind her stepped forward, silently passing a glittering silver scroll to Shizune, who accepted it with a distracted bow.

As Shizune rolled it all the way open, the ends of the message falling all the way down onto the ground, Tsunade continued, her sharp eyes noting the carefully blank faces of all four jounin standing in front of her. “He has a twelve year old son suffering from an unknown illness, proving difficult for the medic-nins of Iwagakure to treat. The Daimyou of Earth Country respectfully requests, upon the honor of the Treaty of Bokusouchi between Iwa and Konoha, the aid of our medical experts.”

With a delicate flick of her wrist, Shizune snapped the missive closed and tucked it into the pocket of her lab coat.

Asuma was the first one to stir, his voice deep and unhurried as spoke. “But the four of us? All of jounin rank?”

Tsunade favored him with a smile. “Because three weeks ago, this happened.” The ANBU guard stepped forward again, Cat mask glittering in the sunlight, with a small white box in hand. It opened with just a gentle tap of chakra, curls of steam and smoke emanating from its edges as the lid slowly rose open.

Inside was a single, white finger.

The air inside the Hokage’s office rippled with intent. There was no shift in position from the four ninja in front of her, no marked change in expression, just the faintest glimmer of a naked blade bared before quickly being sheathed again.

“Bokusouchi is one of our old outposts we share with Grass on the Grass-Earth border,” Tsunade said quietly. “The treaty to end the last war was signed there and we still maintain a sizeable number of shinobi, to keep an eye on things. Three weeks ago, as far as Intel can confirm, a fight broke out on the border, something far greater than the normal border skirmish, and five Konoha ninja were taken captive.”

She gestured at the box the ANBU guard in the Cat mask was still holding. “They want to be paid in blood for the Iwa ninja killed during the attack.”

“It seems like they want war even more,” Kurenai said in a low voice, hard and unyielding.

“Just so,” Tsunade said and tightened her hand into a white knuckled fist. “But I’m sending the four of you to make sure that those bastards _don’t_ get what they want. The last one was too long and too hard on this village and the last thing I want to do is get dragged into another senseless war. The ambassador stationed over in Tamaishi, Earth Country’s capital, has managed to negotiate a deal involving the Daimyou of Earth Country. The Daimyou’s party will meet you at Bokusouchi; heal the boy as a sign of good faith and negotiate a way to get our soldiers back.”

“Hokage-sama,” the four saluted in unison.

“Officially, the mission is to meet with the Daimyou and his son. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t want word of this getting out any sooner than it has to before the other villages start testing our strength.” At her gesture, Cat stepped away, slipping the cover back on the white box. “Shizune will be designated as team leader for _both_ sides to the mission and Kakashi will serve as her second. After this meeting, Intel will provide further information and details in the conference room down the hallway.”

Tsunade paused for a moment, watching the four ninja standing in front of her. Yuuhi stood tall and straight, carrying herself with a careful, dangerous presence; Asuma was a wide, burly looking wall beside her, all muscle and sinew and implacable strength; Kakashi slouched beside him, looking mangy and battered in his torn flak vest and dirty jounin blues; and finally, Shizune, who gave Tsunade a small, knowing look as she stood at attention in front of her old master.

“I’m sending you four because you’re the best we have. Do the village proud,” Tsunade said finally and waved her hand in dismissal.

Yuuhi, Asuma, and Shizune bowed deeply and saluted one last time before heading towards the suddenly open office door.

Of course, the brat stayed behind, looking as if he had all the damned time in the world.

She raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“You’re making a mistake,” Kakashi said, if possible slouching even _more_ than before. Tsunade was sorely tempted to beat a spine into the little asshole’s back.

“That sounds dangerously close to insubordination,” Tsunade said silkily.

“Lock me up and court-martial me for all I care,” Kakashi said, lifting his head to look Tsunade directly in the eye. There was nothing sleepy looking about him, not truly; even looking like something like the cat dragged in, he still made Tsunade’s hackles rise. “Better than sending me over there.”

“Make your point,” Tsunade bit out, “unless your point is stupidly flout your Hokage’s orders.” Behind her, Cat’s hand strayed over the handle of the ninjato strapped by his side.

“Let me spell it out for you.” Kakashi swept a hand over his hair, the spiral leaf obscuring the Sharingan. “I am the son of the White Fang and the former student of the Yellow Flash, both of whom weren’t known to be on good terms with Iwa. You could seriously destabilize negotiations just by sending me there.”

“You don’t think I didn’t take that into account?” Tsunade asked him, leaning forward on the desk.

Kakashi’s hand paused for a moment before it fell back to his side.

“It was a serious question, Hatake.”

The droopy eye blinked once, then twice. “I think you’re treading on dangerous ground, Hokage-sama.”

“Let me tell you what I, honestly, think then, since you’ve done me the kindness of being so frank with me.” Tsunade stood up out of her chair, pushing it all the way back. Cat neatly stepped out of the way as she made her way around the desk to stop in front of Kakashi, her heels giving her a few extra inches on the boy.

She leaned forward, close enough that her nose nearly grazed his own, close enough that she could count the tiny lines around his eyes, close enough to lay a hand against his heart and ask him to lay down his life for Konoha.

“I think you’re running away, boy.”

Kakashi didn’t flinch.

“You’ve been taking nothing but solo missions since they’ve left the village-- in fact, you haven’t worked with a team since your own genin left you. You quit your position on the Jounin Representative Council and you’ve done nothing but run yourself into the ground with missions. You’ve been hospitalized nearly eight times in the last sixteen months.”

Kakashi tilted his head, looking at her unblinkingly.

“You’re a good ninja, talented as all hell. Not many could have run missions that you have, let alone solo, and come back still breathing. But that’s not what’s unique about you, boy. You’re not just good at killing-- you could _be_ so much more.”

Tsunade caught the exact moment when the brat in front of her stopped breathing. She smiled at him, slow and wide, like a predator going in for the kill.

“I think you’re running away from responsibility, and I can’t afford to let you keep doing so, Hatake. You’ve too much damned potential to waste on missions like that, when you could be sitting here, leading the village instead.”

Her eyes softened as she saw his fists tighten at his side, tendons jumping out in his wrists and his arms. She turned away from him and walked steadily over to the windows looking over the village. It was long past dawn and the rooftops of Konoha were bustling with activity, glints of light flickering like stars as ninja leapt and somersaulted, their headbands catching the sun’s morning rays.

Tsunade clasped her hands behind her back. “Shizune will be handling most of the diplomatic heavy lifting, but I want you to observe the situation carefully. There might be some conflict due to your presence, but I expect you to find a way to resolve it, quietly, without setting the treaty on fire. Above all, if things go to hell, I want you to get everyone back home to Konoha, safe and sound. Do you understand?”

Behind her, she heard the soft rustle of cloth as Kakashi went down on one knee; a vague, wavering reflection of his bowed head appeared in the glass panes in front of her. “Understood, Hokage-sama.”

A few miles away, she caught sight of Ichiraku ramen rolling up its wooden bamboo slats, the attached chimney beginning to curl with gray smoke. “One more thing, from one former runaway to another,” she said, fingers reaching up reflexively to curl around the necklace that no longer hung around her neck. “I’ve had word from Jiraiya. He’s coming back soon.”

Kakashi’s shoulders stiffened in reflection, layered over the bright white rooftops of Konoha General.

“Make sure the kid still has a home to come back to, alright?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

Tsunade couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Good. Don’t disappoint him again, Hatake. Dismissed.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

9 : 21

Shizune absently wiped her thumb over the watch face clipped to the front of her scrubs, feeling its soft vibrations as the gears ticked steadily on. The second hand swept steadily past the twelve and the minute hand shifted a degree. 9 : 22.

“Senpai!”

She jerked her head up just in time to catch Sakura’s bow as she leapt up from the seat outside Shizune’s office, a stack of papers and a thick textbook clasped to her chest.

“Well done,” Shizune smiled at her, dropping the watch and pulling her hands into three quick seals. The door leading to her office briefly glowed blue before swinging open. “Your control over your chakra signature has improved. I almost didn’t notice you there.”

Sakura glowed at her, green eyes glittering. “It’s all thanks to the new kuroko technique you showed me, Shizune-senpai.”

“And your dedication,” Shizune said gently and stepped into her office, with Sakura at her back. She saw evidence of Kenta’s work in the overflowing in-tray on her desk and the empty out-tray. Stacks of patient charts sat patiently on the floor next to the crammed bookshelf filled with scrolls, textbooks and treatises.

“I’m back, Tonton,” she announced, nudging the furry purple bed sitting underneath her chair with her foot. Tonton continued to snore happily, ignoring her completely.

Shizune couldn’t help but sigh in envy, peeling off her lab coat and tossing it behind her office chair.

“Um, senpai, I got this message from Kenta-san about some kind of meeting we were supposed to have?”

Sakura had settled herself in her usual seat, perching on the edge of a wooden chair across from Shizune. She had tied her long hair back in a practical queue, wearing scrubs and her white smock denoting her status as a trainee medic nin.

She was biting her lower lip again, fingers curled tight around the books in her lap.

She had just turned fifteen, not even three months ago.

Shizune sat down in her own chair, running a hand through her hair. Some days, she could barely believe she had been fifteen at all, but then, that had been a different time. There was no war and there hadn’t been for a long time. Sakura was a girl who had grown up in the long shadow of peace and Shizune very much planned on keeping it that way.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to help with revising for your final examinations next month, Sakura,” Shizune began, holding up a hand when she saw Sakura’s face whiten and fall. “I’ve been tapped for a mission and I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Sakura’s face brightened, but then turned thoughtful as she glanced down at the piles of paperwork sitting on Shizune’s desk, the stacks of patient charts piling up in the back of the room. “But what about the Directorship?”

“It’ll have to keep without me,” Shizune shrugged with a shoulder.

Sakura opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the long meetings you’ve been having with Tsunade-shishou lately, does it?” Sakura asked slowly, carefully, her green eyes missing nothing.

Shizune couldn’t help the proud smile on her face. “Absolutely, one hundred percent no,” she said, then signed discreetly in medic code, _classified_.

Sakura noded once, gravely. “Of course, what do you need me to do?”

“Nakajima-sensei will temporarily fill my place, but once you graduate your exams, I expect you’ll be placed in the surgical unit and work as Nakajima’s assistant. Kenta will help, of course, handling the bureaucracy as best he can.”

Sakura gasped, one hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Senpai, that’s--”

“A lot of responsibility, I know,” Shizune sighed, rubbing her sore, tender eyes. “Especially for a new medic like you. But you’ve always been an atypical student, Sakura, and you’ve completed coursework in the time it takes others nearly their entire lifetime. Not only that, you’ve been working closely with Tsunade-sama on more than just medical matters.”

A soft, gentle hand pressed against Shizune face.

Startled, Shizune nearly jerked back before warm, soothing waves of chakra washed through her coils, clearing away the exhaustion and the impending migraine building up in the back of her head.

“Thank you,” Shizune said, blinking rapidly to clear the sudden tears prickling at the corner of her eyes.

“You looked like you needed it, Shizune-senpai,” Sakura smiled up at her before drawing her hand away. “What can you tell me about the mission anyway?”

Shizune mentally flicked through the meeting with Intel she just came out of, going through names, dates and security classifications. “I’ll be working with a few other jounin on a special diplomatic mission to Earth Country. The Daimyou’s son is ill and requires medical attention.”

“Huh,” Sakura muttered, her brow knitting together. “Do the Iwa medics have any lead?”

“I’ll know more once we make contact, but it doesn’t sound like it,” Shizune shook her head. “If the Daimyou allows me, I might write up the case study and send it back home for you to look over.”

“More work,” Sakura groaned, but her eyes glimmered with the thought of a challenge. “Who’s going with you on the mission, anyway?”

Shizune leaned back in her chair, tilting her head back. “Let’s see-- Yuuhi Kurenai, Sarutobi Asuma and… Hatake Kakashi.”

The room fell quiet.

“I can see your heart,” Shizune said in a low voice, not quite able to make eye contact with Sakura, who seemed determined to drill a hole into the floor with her fierce gaze. “It’s right there, pinned onto your sleeve.”

“Senpai…” Sakura took in a deep breath, her cheeks tinged with pink. “Sorry, it’s just. I. I’ve talked to him maybe _twice_ since Sa-- since they left the village,” she said in a tight, miserable voice.

“Every time I try to meet up with Kakashi-sensei, he ducks out of it saying he has other plans, or he’s not even in the village in the first place because he’s always running missions, or I just can’t even find him. Even when I try to see him when he’s hospitalized, he always manages to be asleep or in the bathroom. The last time we even really talked was last year, when I passed the chuunin exams.”

“He’s not the easiest person to understand,” Shizune said slowly, arms crossed over her chest. “I think he just needs a little space right now.” She reached forward with a hand to ruffle Sakura’s head, who looked up at her with wide, wet eyes.

“One thing I do know for sure,” Shizune said, firm, “is that it’s absolutely not your fault. Kakashi can be a little bit of an ass when he really puts his mind to it. As soon as we get back, I’ll make sure he gets into contact with you and treats you to something nice, okay?”

Sakura gave her a quick, hard nod before scrubbing furiously at her eyes with the back of hand. “Got it, senpai. I’ll help Tsunade-shishou and Nakajima-sensei take care of the hospital _and_ I’ll make sure to pass the medic exams with honors.”

“Good,” Shizune laughed, drawing away. “I look forward to hearing all about it. Now, I have a little bit of time to spare before Kenta barges back in here with a list of every single thing I need to look over before he lets me hare off on a mission. Let’s go over the list of plant based poisons and their respective antidotes.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was a little higher when Asuma left the air-conditioned front lobby of Konoha General, the streets a little busier, maybe, but Konoha still looked the same as when he had last seen it two hours ago. It was only his perception of it that had changed.

A potential war had a way of really making you appreciate the finer things in life.

Next to him, Kurenai had finished tying her hair back into a neat queue and was going through some seals with a thoughtful air. He couldn’t detect any noticeable chakra working but it still made him itch for something to hold in his hands.

He pulled out a cigarette from a vest pocket and lit it up casually, enjoying the first real puff he’d had since they woke up a few hours ago. It softened the hollow edge of his hunger from the extensive healing session on his bum knee right after the mission briefing. Gotta make sure the meat shield at least could hobble around on two legs before shipping him out to slaughter.

Something soft and warm slipped around his arm and curled tight. Asuma looked down, catching the soft milky white curve of Kurenai’s throat as she leaned into him, smelling of jasmine and kunai oil.

“You okay?”

Asuma tapped the ash off the end of the cigarette, trying to ignore how his throat was trying to close up on him. “Eh,” he said, rough. “Could be better, could be worse.”

“Hm,” Kurenai said and started walking, pulling him along with her. “Let’s get something to eat and then you can spend the rest of the day beating the stuffing out of whatever poor sap is using the jounin fields today. The medic-nin said you needed to stretch out your left knee anyway.”

“You’re even more beautiful when you’re bossy,” he said entirely seriously, enjoying the way her cheeks faintly colored.

“Yakiniku and you’re definitely paying for it,” Kurenai murmured, weaving through the crowds with ease. It helped that Asuma mostly cleared the way his bulk. They stuck to the streets instead of heading to the roofs and made their way slowly down Main Street and towards the restaurant district. Even at this early hour, it was bustling with shinobi, darting in and out of shops, genin squabbling over splitting the bill and seats at Ichiraku Ramen. Asuma concentrated on the wash of chakra signatures around them, smoking steadily through his fresh pack of Lucky Leaves. By the time they made it to the front entrance of Yakiniku Q, it was a little less than half empty.

“Well, if it isn’t my best customer,” Akimichi Shuu laughed when Asuma ducked underneath the fluttering blue curtains, just a step behind Kurenai. “You want your usual?”

Asuma mustered up a smile for the old man, stubbing out his cigarette on his flak vest before tucking it away into the pack for later. “Just half the normal size, Shuu. I don’t have Chouji with me today.”

“You got it,” Shuu saluted, and retreated back to the kitchens.

He slid towards his normal booth in the back, with sightlines to a good three quarters of the room and clear paths to at least three different exits. After a couple of seconds of jostling, he graciously gave up the seat against the wall to Kurenai and took the one with his back to the room.

Asuma felt something cold and slippery slide briefly against his skin before it faded away; Kurenai pulled her hands from underneath the table and nodded. “We can speak candidly,” she said briefly, reaching out for the icy glass of water on the table.

“Is this the genjutsu where it sounds like I’m basically boring everyone to death about the flightless birds of Tazaraku Island again?” Asuma scratched his beard, reaching out with his other hand to conjure up a bit of wind to push the glass of water just an inch out of Kurenai’s reach.

“I could make it sound like you’re making nothing animal noises,” she threatened, batting his hand out of the way. “ _Quacking duck noises_.”

“Duly noted,” he grinned, propping his chin against his fist. Behind him, he could feel Shuu’s coiled chakra signature humming along in the kitchen, Kasumi circling around the room, checking in on the customers. “So, that was fun, huh.”

Kurenai sighed and drank deeply from her glass of water. “We must have differing definitions of ‘fun’,” she said wryly, setting it back down on the table. “I’m not sure if... “ She paused, running her tongue over the cracks of her teeth.

“I haven’t been by Bokusouchi for years, since maybe the war’s end,” she said finally. “I don’t know. I’m not very much looking forward to going back.”

Asuma fiddled with the silver lighter in his trouser pocket. “I know what you mean.”

“Are you alright with the mission…?”

“To Bokusouchi? Not anymore than you are,” Asuma shrugged.

“That’s not what I mean,” Kurenai said, lacing her fingers together. He found that he couldn’t quite meet her dark red gaze. “The Intel officer said we’d have to make a stop by the capital to pick up our diplomatic papers, signed by the Fire Daimyou himself, before we even think about heading over to the outpost.”

He quit fiddling with the lighter in his pocket; it made him itchy and craving for another smoke.

“Do you mean if I’m going to have a nervous breakdown when I get to Kasai?” Asuma snapped out, the bite to his voice sharper than he really meant it. “Sorry, I…”

He shook his head, burying his face wearily in his hands. “I don’t know, Kurenai. It’s been nearly six years since I left Kasai and the Daimyou’s service. Would I like to go back? No. But I have to if I want to do right by my job.”

Kurenai reached out, cupping his jaw with a cool hand. Her thumb brushed delicately over the soft skin of his lips. “Okay,” she said, simply, then let go.

“I don’t want to push you,” she said, looking down at the table. In the corner, Shikamaru had haphazardly carved out a tic-tac-toe board, handily beating Chouji and forever immortalizing it in the wooden tables of Yakiniku Q. Gods above, Asuma missed his damned kids.

“But I want to let you know that I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about the war, about Bokusouchi or even what happened in Kasai six years ago.”

She looked at him underneath long dark lashes, the crimson slash of her mouth curved into a small but real smile.

He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t loved that smile. This morning, when she laughed at him over coffee and omurice; six years ago, when he stumbled back into the village, covered in ash and the blood of his brothers and she welcomed him back home with a smile on her lips and tears spilling from her eyes; fifteen years ago, when she smiled at him and helped him up from the ground after a grueling practice set by their jounin-sensei.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, tangling his feet with hers.

Her smile widened a touch.

 

* * *

 

They met outside Konoha’s main gates, a little over 0500. Kakashi watched Asuma and Kurenai mill around each other in silence, obviously comfortable with each other and the quiet. Shizune arrived some minutes later, her black hair tangled into a wild mess, her cheeks flushed as she apologized. Kakashi caught _patients and paperwork_ as she hurriedly went through her explanation, the morning shadows obscuring most of the movements of her lips.

Then-- _Kakashi?_

Asuma pointed up at the sky, which Kakashi took as his cue to arrive.

He dropped down from the top of wall, landing neatly by Kurenai’s side. She rolled her eyes at him but didn’t otherwise comment.

“Yo,” Kakashi said, crinkling an eye. “You’re late, Shizune-senpai.”

“Don’t even start with me,” Shizune said, warningly, as she heaved her pack over her shoulders. The flak vest she wore was brand new, the leather uncracked, the weatherproofing oil on it clean and glistening. “If we’re going to be stuck with each other for the foreseeable future, we should at least try to get along, by which I mostly mean you should keep your smartass comments to yourself, Kakashi.”

“Hear hear,” Kurenai muttered under her breath. Asuma coughed, badly hiding the choked laughter.

“Ah,” Kakashi said, mock sadly. “I see no one here has anything close to a sense of humour.”

“Well,” Shizune said briskly, completely ignoring him. “It’s a good day and a half run over to Kasai, but I don’t mind cutting it short to one, if you’re all willing to put up with some extended sprinting.”

Kurenai shook her head, the end of her long thick braid dancing against the small of her back. “Not really,” she commented. “Especially if it means we can be sleeping under a roof tonight.”

Likewise, Asuma shook his head as well. He was in the middle of lighting up another cigarette, plumes of smoke ghosting around his bent head.

“Kakashi?”

“No,” Kakashi said, squinting up at the fading starlight above him. “How long do you expect us to be in the capital, senpai?”

“Two days at the very most, but I want to be out of there by tomorrow morning. The papers should be waiting for us, at any rate.” Shizune frowned, fingers twining around the leather strap of the medic-kit strapped at her hip. “I don’t want to delay being in Bokusouchi any longer than we have to.”

The single, white finger came briefly to mind.

“Everyone ready?”

They all dipped their heads.

“Okay then,” Shizune breathed out, then turned around, putting the great walls of the village to her back. “Let’s go save the world.”

 

* * *

 

The rooftop lines of Kasai were long, smooth and traditional. Kurenai slid down from the side of the bakery wall, one hand on the gutter to guide her way. A solid thump behind her let her know that Asuma took the quicker, if less quiet way down.

The embassy was just a few miles away, deep in the heart of Kasai Capital, nestled in the diplomatic district bordering the Fire Daimyou’s Palace. It was considered rude to travel like ninja in the seat of civilian power, so they were forced to walk on the streets, shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the bustling crowds.

Behind her, Asuma’s chakra signature rippled and flowed, betraying none of the discomfort he had to be feeling. Kurenai badly wanted to reach out, to steady his shoulder with a hand, to at least let him know he wasn’t alone--

But this was a mission and so Kurenai kept her thoughts to herself.

Shizune lead the way with a steady confidence, Kakashi just a half-step behind her. His distinctive shock of white hair was covered by a farmer’s conical hat, picked up at the small farming village they had passed through some hours ago.

Kurenai could count on one hand the amount of times she had been to the capital of Fire Country and still have enough fingers left over to form seals. All around her, weak civilian chakra signatures dominated, their uncontrolled flickering life forces almost too dim to even make out with her senses. Occasionally, she spotted harder signatures, all strength and no flexibility, and caught the tell-tale twin blades used by samurai.

“There it is,” Shizune said, stopping in the shadow of a fruit stall and pointing upwards with her hand. The Konoha embassy’s broad red rooftop curved like two sweeping wings, easily the tallest and widest building in the area. Snarling stony dragons perched at every arched point of the clay-tiled roof, fire-gold gilding the carved flames erupting from open maws.

Two massive double doors opened onto the street, just like the great gates leading to Konoha. Closer inspection revealed that they were, in fact, an exact replica built to scale, right down to the faded green paint and the spiral leaf embossed over the threshold.

“Our dear home away from home.” Shizune said, leaning her head back all the way to take the entire structure in. Kurenai felt the other woman’s chakra shiver and flare, then caught sight of the briefest flicker of a black cloak by the coiling back of a dragon sculpture on the embassy rooftop. An ANBU Guard, perhaps?

They slipped across the open road and through the open gates without any interference. The entrance hall was carved from cool marble and hung with golden green lanterns, but the effect was somewhat marred by the practical brown carpet running across the length. At the very end of the hall, a comfortably round woman sat at a large, expansive mahogany desk, busily writing in a thick black book.

A mid-level kunoichi, Kurenai judged, from the quality of her chakra signature.

“Welcome to the Konoha Embassy of Kasai Capital City,” the woman said cheerfully, dimples deepening in her cheeks. “How can I help you today?”

Shizune silently slid out a small black token from the sleeve of her token and placed it gently on top of the desk. “Katou Shizune, jounin, ID 010800.”

The woman shut the book and picked up the token with careful hands. It bore the same symbol the Hokage’s messenger hawk did on its wings-- the personal seal of the Godaime Hokage, along with a small seed of dormant chakra.

“Ah,” the woman said, her smile deepening. “The Ambassador’s expecting you, Katou-sama. RIght this way.”

The outline of small, narrow door suddenly appeared behind the desk, then swung silently open without any sort of signal from the woman. “You’ll be met by one of our guides, Katou-sama. Safe travels.”

“Thank you,” Shizune bowed, taking back the token into her hands and slipping it back up her sleeve. As always, Shizune took point, Kakashi lurking like an overgrown shadow at her back; Kurenai followed the two of them into the doorway, trusting in Asuma’s solid presence behind her.

When all four of them passed through, the doorway sealed shut again, leaving all of them in darkness.

“Ah, damn, the lights always take a while to kick in,” a new voice suddenly piped up. Kurenai frowned, tracking the chakra signature.

Someone pounded hard on the wall before blue chakra sparks sputtered to life and the gloom slowly resolved itself into a dimly lit hallway. A slender looking girl in a still-new flak vest stood nearly nose to nose in front Shizune, her long brown hair pinned into two buns on her head.  
Wasn’t she one of Gai’s genin?

Chuunin, Kurenai corrected herself. They were all chuunin now. She thought a little wistfully of her kids, running their own missions without her.

“Eh?” Tenten blinked, looking around the crowded hallway. Asuma and Kakashi rather unfairly took up most of the available real estate with their broad shoulders, leaving Kurenai and Shizune with the barest scraps of space. “Kakashi-sensei? Asuma-sensei and Kurenai-sensei as well? You’re all on a mission together?”

“Surprise,” Kakashi said, perfectly dry. “We all have lives outside of being jounin-sensei.”

“I didn’t mean,” Tenten flushed, but didn’t quite back down, which Kurenai noted with approval. “It’s just weird to see all of you here together.”

“Special mission,” Shizune winked at her, sticking her hand out. “Good to meet you, Tenten-san, right? I think we met after Neji-kun’s surgery after the retrieval mission.”

“Right in one,” Tenten said, making an awkward half-bow. “Sorry, there’s no room in this dratted space for a proper hello. Well, it’s nice to meet you all here. I’ve been assigned as your guide during your stay in the Embassy.” She started trotting down the hallway, chakra lanterns lighting the way.

“With this bracelet, you can call on me anytime you’d like, say if you have any issues or if you’d like to get to a particular place. Just send a tiny pulse of chakra through it and I’ll be right over.” She passed something over to Shizune, who handed back a simple wooden bracelet with a single spiral leaf hanging from it. Intrigued, Kurenai prodded it lightly with a chakra-laced fingertip, earning her a small electric shock. Some kind of location tracker and communication device? It couldn’t be too complicated, considering its size. Maybe some kind of seal construct, powered by chakra?

“It’s best if you call for me instead instead of trying to get around the place on your own,” Tenten continued, reaching the end of the dismal hallway, where another doorway appeared. “Um, otherwise you might get stuck in a trap somewhere and that would be a pain, because then T&I has to come down and have a chat with you about exactly what you’re doing.”

“I’m assuming that kind of conversation involves less talking and more needles and screws,” Asuma commented, an undercurrent of dark amusement in his voice.

Tenten grinned as she opened the door, leading to another hallway, this time richly appointed in cream and gold, with marble tables and impeccably polished mirrors lining the sides. “I meant the pain in a very literal way, sensei,” she said. “Okay, so we’re almost at Ambassador Chizuru’s office, so I’ll drop you off there first, then show you to your rooms. Did I mention that they installed a sentou bath in the basement just last month?”

“No, but keep talking,” Kurenai said, drawing laughs from both Shizune and Tenten.

“Okay, but looks like business has to come first. Ah, here we are, Ambassador’s Chizuru’s rooms…”

 

* * *

 

Kurenai was already nose-deep in the hot water bath by the time Shizune finished scrubbing the day’s grime off, muscles aching and sore after a long, _long_ run. Damn if she wasn’t more than a little out of shape. Pushing papers and spending hours in the operating theater hadn’t done her already low stamina levels any good.

Shizune made a very indecent noise as she sank into the bath, sending cascades of green tea water over the sides and onto the tiled floor.

Kurenai cracked a sleepy looking eye open. “Well,” she said mildly. “Now I know more about what you sound like in bed than I ever really wanted to.”

“Hmph,” Shizune muttered, too blissed out to even counter properly. “This is perfect. Why did no one say _no, stupid_ when I first suggested that we should run all the way here in a single damned day? My calves are killing me.”

“And miss out on this?” Kurenai said, pushing at the black bangs plastered to her forehead. “It’s worth a little muscle ache.”

“Agreed.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a little while longer, letting the heat work its magic on sore muscle and tired chakra coils. In the background, small drops of water fell from the spigots and onto the floor in quiet, soothing music.

Shizune tipped her head back, leaning it against the edge of the bathtub. “So, you and Asuma huh?”

There was a noise like a drowned cat before a large wave of green water rose up and nearly hit Shizune in the face. She raised one languid arm and split it neatly at the crest, letting it flow past and around her, spilling onto the floor with a tremendous crash.

“Shizune!” Kurenai said, face red from more than just the temperature of the room.

“You’ve only been mooning after each other since you were _ten_ ,” Shizune snorted. “Poor Asuma never had a chance after being put on the same genin team as you.”

“We never even did anything back then!” Kurenai shook her head, spraying water all over. “Gods, I even hated his guts a little. He was such a jerk when he was a kid.”

Shizune dimly remembered the time Asuma had pinned Kurenai’s braid to a tree during practice once, earning him a week’s worth of frosty silences. “Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly at the memory. “Well, at least you seem like you’re finally together now? I mean, I got that feeling when I first came back to the village, but you’re like a clam when it comes to anything involving your life...”

There was a pause and then Kurenai nodded, her eyes crinkling as she gave Shizune a small smile. “After I made jounin two years ago, I just… I decided to give it a shot, you know? We’d always danced around the possibility, but it really hit me after I started regularly getting those A-ranks. I didn’t want to go to the grave with too many regrets. It only really started getting serious a year back.”

Kurenai looked up at the ceiling, fingers tangled in her long black braid. “We’ve been thinking about moving together,” she admitted. “He’s at my place nearly all the time, so I figured, why not?” she shrugged.

“Congratulations!” Shizune laughed, her heart swelling in her chest.

“Thanks,” Kurenai said, almost shyly. “Well, how about you and Kasumi-chan?”

Shizune’s heart skipped a beat, then began to deflate. “Oh, I…Kasumi and I are on a little break right now,” she said quietly.

“Oh.” Kurenai digested this, not looking too surprised. Shizune couldn’t blame her-- this was how most of her relationships in the past had usually gone.

“Kasumi wanted more than I could afford to give.” Shizune dragged a finger through the still surface of the bath water, creating miniature tidal waves and tsunamis. “Especially after I got promoted, it got a lot harder trying to find time to sleep, let alone even spend time with her. She wanted to settle down, start a family. I wanted to keep working with my patients and my research even more than I wanted kids.”

“Sounds like this one was a lot more serious,” Kurenai said finally.

She cupped her hands together, pooling clear green water in her hands, before letting it trickle back into the bath through the gaps in her fingers. “Yeah,” Shizune said, sad. “Before I got notice of my promotion, we were even thinking about moving in together, maybe even adopt a kid or something. Kasumi has PCOS, so it’s harder for her to conceive, and I’m not a big fan of becoming pregnant myself.”

“Gods above, Shizune that sounds _really_ serious,” Kurenai sputtered, splashing water everywhere.

“Don’t you dare drown on me, that’s way too much paperwork for me to fill out,” Shizune tried to laugh, flicking water over at Kurenai’s head.

“Haha,” Kurenai snarked, wringing her wet hair. “Don’t think you can get away with changing the subject. Are you doing okay?”

Shizune shrugged at her lopsidedly, looking away. “I love my work,” she said. “I love being a medic on top of my game. I don’t regret leaving with Tsunade-sama back then, but I lost a lot of time. It took me nearly six months after our return for me to catch up with all the new techniques and read up on all the papers that were published. Getting the Directorship and being tapped for tough missions like this…” She sighed deeply. “I don’t know if I could do that with a wife and kids.”

“How do you balance being a ninja and a human being at the same time?” Kurenai said, her voice soft. “How do you handle work and family and personal ambitions? I never thought, as a girl just out of the Academy, that nearing thirty and as a jounin-ranked kunoichi I would be thinking about these things.”

“Well,” Shizune said with a wry smile, “we _were_ in the middle of a war back when we were growing up.”

Kurenai laughed. “That’s true. I was more concerned with staying alive long enough to make it to my next meal than anything about the far future.” Her face darkened as a grim smile flickered over her face. “All the more reason we don’t fuck this one up.”

“Yeah,” Shizune breathed, crossing her fingers tight, and thought of Sakura, of Tenten, of all the young kunoichis of Konoha, growing up in the cool shade of peace.

Mostly she thought of Rin’s name on the Memorial Stone, who had never gotten a chance to grow up at all.

“We really can’t.”

 

* * *

 

Asuma had just finished changing out of his old beat up jounin blues into a fresh yukata provided by the embassy when he heard the knock on the door.

“Tenten didn’t say she was going to drop by again, did she?” he asked Kakashi, checking the chakra signatures.

One was small and untrained, a civilian; the other one was Tenten.

Kakashi shook his head silently before padding over to the door. He had taken off his flak vest but remained still in his blues, _Icha Icha Paradise_ in one hand. He inched the door open a crack, letting just enough light in that Asuma could see a sliver of black and red cloth.

“Can I help you?” Kakashi said pleasantly, making the hairs on Asuma’s neck rise.

“A missive from His Excellency, the Daimyou of Fire Country,” said the civilian, presumably following it with a bow. Asuma saw the light flicker and change as the black and red figure moved. The man was likely clad in the Daimyou’s personal livery.

“He said he had to hand deliver it, as per the Daimyou’s orders,” Tenten added, her voice drifting through. “Hope we didn’t disturb you too badly, sensei.”

The door closed and the chakra signatures retreated into the depths of the embassy again.

Asuma put down the kunai he held in his hand, rubbing away at the cut on his palm, where he’d gripped the knife too hard and too close to the razor edge. He wiped it against his yukata, leaving reddish brown streaks against the soft white cotton cloth.

“Just don’t bleed over my things,” Kakashi said lightly, tossing something over at Asuma’s head. He caught it automatically with his clean hand.

“That one’s yours.”

“What, you got one too?”

Kakashi held up another scroll, identical to the one Asuma held in his hand. It was sealed in wax with the Daimyou’s personal sigil; if he recalled correctly, the Daimyou wore the sigil ring around his neck on a simple gold chain.

“We’re all special snowflakes here, I presume,” Kakashi said.

Asuma ignored him and tore his scroll open.

 _Sarutobi Asuma of the Twelve,_ the scroll began, in perfect calligraphy, with gold-leaf lettering and enough flourishes to choke a man.

_His Excellency, The Daimyou of Fire Country, Lord of the Five, and Ruler of the Southern Isles, formally requests your presence tonight at the Sun Palace at half-past moonrise for a small gathering..._

More formality followed it, along with other wax seals and pictures and meters and meters of court frivolity before it was signed and stamped at the very end by the Daimyou’s sigil in wax.

Asuma tossed the scroll onto his bed and headed towards the window at the same time to check the angle of the moon. “Damn if he isn’t cutting it a little too close,” he said darkly, tugging at the loose cloth around his waist keeping his yukata together. “You get the same message?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a nice formal dinner like this in Kasai,” Kakashi said casually, as if they were discussing the weather. “I think the last time was the ceremony he hosted at the end of the war, when he was giving out medals and free food.”

_Of the Twelve._

Asuma grunted as he bent down, digging through his pack and pulling out the scroll that held his clean clothes. He unsealed a fresh set of jounin blues and hurriedly tugged them on. Probably wasn’t as nice to put _former member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja that tried to kill the Daimyou_ in fancy letters. At least he was part of the half that tried to protect the Daimyou instead of engineering a coup.

“No formal kimono?”

“Oh, if only I’d thought to pack for a damned dinner party,” Asuma said sourly, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Instead of for the mission that we’re actually on.” He tied his Konoha band around his head, a familiar and comfortable weight, then pulled on his flak vest.

“You know, you could always say no,” Kakashi said quietly. “We could leave for Bokusouchi within the hour.”

Asuma’s hand froze around his dark red sash, marked with the kanji for fire.

“I lost that right six years ago,” he said, then tied it around his waist. “Besides, Kurenai would kill me if I interrupted her long-awaited bath time after the day we’ve had. Ready to go?”

Asuma looked up and saw Kakashi leaning against the doorjamb leading out from the bedroom and into the sitting room. He was still in his dirty jounin blues, bothering only to slip on his flak vest. _Icha Icha_ dangled loosely from his free hand.

Damn if Asuma didn’t admire his massive brass balls. He wouldn’t be surprised if the other man actually whipped out that thing during dinner and read through the entire night.

“At least the food will be good,” Kakashi said obliquely and Asuma couldn’t help but laugh as he summoned Tenten to the door with the chakra bracelet around his wrist.

 

* * *

 

The small gathering turned out to be a moon-viewing party in the Daimyou’s famed gardens, tiny paper lanterns floating gracefully on fountain waters, in the pond rippling with lily pads and the soft music of summer frogs.

Kakashi and Asuma sat in deeply uncomfortable wooden chairs by the Daimyou’s side as he sipped at a cup full of sake on his silk-covered pavilion. Women of the court scattered around him like living flowers in their dazzling kimonos, perched upon the arms of men with soft, white hands.

“Clean, with a hint of jasmine, but otherwise not very noteworthy,” the Daimyou sniffed, then handed the cup off to a servant who bowed. “Send for the bottle of ‘84 from Rice Country instead, the one Yatsuhara-dono brought.”

“Your generosity is immeasurable, your Excellency,” one of the lordlings said, settled on a silk cushion by the Daimyou’s feet. He held a young sighing woman in his hands, who giggled and batted her eyes coquettishly.

Kakashi flicked a casual glance at the man’s shaking hands. He stank of fear.

“Come now, Yatsuhara-dono,” the Daimyou said, waving a hand carelessly over in Asuma’s general direction. “Will you not at least do my guests the grace of introducing yourself?”

“Ah, of course,” the lordling muttered before getting to his feet and bowing deeply. “I was so blinded by the beauty of the moon I’ve completely forgotten myself. I am Yatsuhara Ichirou of Kanzaku Prefecture, just a few miles east of the capitali.”

Kakashi dimly remembered going on bandit-hunting in that general area. “Hey,” he said, waving at the man. “Hatake Kakashi.”

Asuma said nothing, perfecting his impression of a stone statue.

“That’s Sarutobi Asuma,” Kakashi said helpfully, pointing over at Asuma’s face.

“Of course,” the lordling bowed again, settling himself back on his silk cushion. “You are both quite ah...infamous in Fire Country, my lords.”

“Well, he _is_ the son of the White Fang,” the Daimyou said, snapping a fan open and fanning himself delicately with it. “Quite a fearsome fellow in his day, though it’s a pity how it ended. You do have his hair, young one.”

Kakashi blinked. “My thanks, your Excellency.”

“Asuma here was one of my Guardians during that distasteful business a few years back, you might recall.”

Yatsuhara nodded, face white and pale in the moonlight. “I remember, your Excellency.”

The servant reappeared, skillfully juggling several large porcelain bottles of sake. He went around and poured everyone a fresh cup, though Kakashi had to dump the old liquor out of his cup before letting the man refill it. The servant very carefully avoided going near Asuma.

“He was the only one who survived that day, I think. Are you, Sarutobi-kun?”

Asuma finally unbent long enough to speak, his voice sounding as if mountains were crashing into each other. “No, your Excellency. Chiriku still lives.”

“Ah, the monk,” the Daimyou nodded, sipping at his sake. “Well, at any rate, I’ve tried convincing Sarutobi-kun here to come back every so often, but it seems like Konoha better suits his tastes.”

The Daimyou frowned suddenly.

Yatsuharu nearly went transparent.

“Really, this sake… Yatsuhara-dono, do give your father my compliments. Simply a splendid vintage.”

Yatsuhara bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the ground. “I cannot convey properly how pleased I am by your words. I will endeavour to do so, your Excellency.”

“Good, good,” the Daimyou said absently. “Now, if you’ll just excuse me for a moment, I must speak with my guests.”

Kakashi nearly saw dust trails rise in Yatsuhara’s wake as he fled for safer waters.

“How terrible of you, Sarutobi-kun. You nearly gave the man the fright of his life,” the Daimyou said, his words entirely at odds with his pleased tone.

The iron went out of Asuma’s spine as he relaxed into something more resembling his normal, easy-going self. Kakashi noted that the tension that had been in his shoulders since entering Kasai didn’t quite leave.

“Only as much as he deserved,” Asuma said in a low voice. “Isn’t that what you wanted, your Excellency?”

“His father’s been very difficult to deal with these past few years,” the Daimyou sighed, putting down his sake cup into a conveniently available servant’s hand. “This should help at least put the fear of Konoha in him. You were always the best with that glower, Sarutobi-kun. And your friend as well.” The Daimyou squinted over in Kakashi’s direction.

“Sharingan Hatake, yes? Or something of that nature.”

Kakashi dipped his head. “Your Excellency.”

“Hmph, when I had word that you were back in Kasai, I couldn’t help but invite you over. It’s been a long time, Sarutobi-kun. Won’t you think of staying for a little while longer? There _is_ a vacancy in the Twelve. Several, in fact, considering Midori’s impending retirement.”

Asuma hesitated, dark eyes looking over the swirling party, then shook his head. “My deepest and most sincere apologies, your Excellency, but I’m afraid my duty calls me to other matters now.”

“You were always the hardest on yourself,” the Daimyou sighed. “I would have thought that by now you would have laid down that guilt.”

Asuma said nothing.

 _I think you’re running away, boy_ , Tsunade’s voice echoed irritatingly in Kakashi’s ears. He stifled a deep sigh, then clambered up to his feet and began to bow.

“I believe it’s time for us to return, your Excellency. We were only passing through Kasai on business and are expected elsewhere on the morrow.”

Asuma looked up at Kakashi, the briefest hint of surprise and gratitude flashing over his face, before it settled into back an unreadable mask.

The Daimyou wagged his fan at the two of them. “Hm, has that anything to do with the interesting rumours I’ve been hearing lately?”

Kakashi bowed again and said nothing.

“Well, alright then, hurry on you two. Keep the peace,” the Daimyou finally said with a shrewd look.

Asuma got up to his feet as well, easily towering over the Daimyou seated in his pavilion. He saluted instead of bowing, fist over his heart. The red sash at his waist fluttered in the wind.

“With your leave, your Excellency,” he said, then pulled his hands together in a single seal before he disappeared into the wind.

Kakashi followed him just half a second later.

 

* * *

 

“He’s not what I expected,” Kakashi said, breaking the silence. He was balancing easily on top of a stone dragon’s head, looking down at lantern-lit streets of Kasai at night.

“Who, the Daimyou?” Asuma shrugged, lighting up a cigarette hastily and shoving it in his mouth. He sucked in the smoke gratefully, waiting for that nicotine rush to hit his blood. “Not a lot of people get to see that side of him today, I guess. He’s a good man, when he wants to be.”

Kakashi hummed something noncommittal.

Asuma was down to ashes and filter on his first cigarette; he stubbed it out and flicked it over the rooftop, lighting up another in the same, smooth motion.

“Thanks, by the way,” he finally said, in between the second and third puff of smoke.

Kakashi’s head swiveled around to look down at him, like some weird demented owl. Asuma choked down a laugh.

“For what?”

“Bailing me out of there, for sticking with me. I don’t know.” Asuma shrugged again. “Just having you at my six.”

Kakashi looked at him a little longer quietly, like Asuma was a particularly annoying piece of chewing gum stuck to the bottom of his sandals. “I’m not sure how this adds up,” he said finally. “The Daimyou seems to like you and you _did_ save his life back then during the coup. Why don’t you go back? Why haven’t you been back to Kasai since you left?”

Asuma blew out one smoke ring, then two. They hovered in the air for a few minutes before dissipating into the air. When he was younger, his old man showed him a trick with making shapes out of smoke, with touch of wind chakra in his breath.

“Why do you hang around the Memorial Stone all the time?” Asuma said.

“Ah,” Kakashi said. “Touché.”

Asuma was on his fifth cigarette before the sick feeling in stomach went away and he could shake off the phantom sensation of Kazuma’s dying hands squeezing around his neck.

Really, he should have been grateful he had that long before a kick came flying out of nowhere towards his chest, nearly throwing him off the edge of the roof. Asuma caught it against crossed arms, then grabbed the leg and threw Kakashi’s fat ass over his head.

“Best two out of three,” Kakashi said, landing on the downward slope of the rooftop and scattering broken clay tiles everywhere. “Taijutsu only.”

Asuma stubbed his cigarette out and tucked it behind his ear. “Loser gets to go cry to Shizune in the morning to have their ass whooped and the shame of being the loser, forever. Winner gets first watch on the way to Bokusouchi tomorrow night.”

Kakashi had a mask on but Asuma could fill in the shit-eating grin he had on underneath with his imagination.

“You’re on.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

[T - 5 DAYS]

The sun was nearly past the horizon by the time they arrived in Bokusouchi.

The air was dank and humid, heavy with the stench of rotting fungus and old memories. Kakashi rolled his shoulders and kept pace with Shizune, passing easily over the hard, cracked earth and patches of yellow grass. It had used to be swamp land, before the war, the ground soft and treacherous; but Konoha had bent the earth to suit their needs, chakra baking the dirt into something that could be shaped into trenches, foxholes, a battleground.

Even after fifteen-something years, the land was slow to change.

The outpost lay just a few kilometers due north-west, nearly on the banks of the sluggish river marking the border between Earth Country and Grass Country. It was a large, misshapen building, with wings and windows and oddly-placed rooms jutting out from the sides, built and rebuilt to accommodate nearly five hundred active shinobi and at least fifty support staff during the peak of the war. Now, in peace time, only fifteen Konoha shinobi were housed in its expansive walls, along with about five Kusa shinobi who staffed the border customs office.

They were within a hundred meters of the building when Shizune suddenly held a fist up, stopping everyone in their tracks.

“Hold,” Shizune said softly, then signalled over to Kakashi, _Sweep_.

Kakashi dug his heels in and spread out his senses. Six chakra signatures patrolled the outer perimeters of the building, just far away enough from the outpost’s shielding array to be detected.

Four of the signatures abruptly broke off from the group and started to head towards Shizune’s direction.

“Looks like we got company,” Kakashi murmured into the collar of his flak vest. “One shinobi and three ninken.”

Behind him, Kurenai made a small sound that might have been a laugh or a sigh.

The signatures were fifty meters away when Kakashi heard the sharp hiss of a chakra lantern being lit, the noise almost smothered by the weight of dead air. It stayed low to the ground, illuminating a small golden circle and the raised hackles of three massive gray wolf-dogs.

“State your name and purpose,” a voice rang out, edged with the faintest hint of a snarl.

“Reinforcements from Konoha by order of the Hokage,” Shizune said, tapping the silver spiraling leaf she wore on her brow. “We’ve come to help.”

The lantern rose up in the air, its wide radius of light now illuminating a tall woman with twin fangs tattooed on her cheeks, her long brown hair neatly tied back into a horsetail. “Shodai’s saggy balls,” Inuzuka Hana swore, her face white and gaunt in the steady, yellow light. “You have no idea how fucking relieved I am to see your faces.” Her dark eyes flicked over to Kakashi, her mouth curling open to reveal a sharp canine.

“Three and a half faces,” she amended.

Kurenai and Shizune rippled with quiet amusement while Asuma laughed, not even bothering to pretend he was coughing anymore.

Hana curled her hand in a tight fist, then whistled hard. The ninken obediently sat at her side and began to pant, tails wagging hard enough to audibly thump at her legs. “I’m Inuzuka Hana, Commander of Bokusouchi-Konoha.”

Shizune visibly started, her back straightening in the light. “Commander? Why are you out on patrol yourself? Has something else happened?”

Loose strands of hair fell over Hana’s face as she shook her head, her mouth flattening into a thin line. “We’ve got a lot to talk about,” she said, grim. “We just received word that the Daimyou of Earth Country has pulled out of the negotiations. He’s not coming to Bokusouchi.”

 

* * *

 

They were settled in the old war room, walls papered with topographical maps spanning from floor-to-ceiling. Fire Country itself took up one wall, Grass another half-wall, and Earth took up the third, vast swaths of its land still as yet blank and unplotted. Kurenai traced a fingertip over the contour lines depicting the Yamato mountain range up in the northeast, a week’s travel away from the capital, Tamaishi. She had been thirteen and a newly minted chuunin when she had been sent out on a recon mission to map out the area, weaving illusions to cover her team as they slipped through enemy lines.

“I still have scars from the giant mosquito bites I got,” Asuma rumbled next to her, handing her a mug full of boiling hot black coffee. “Hell of a mission we had.”

Kurenai accepted it with a small murmur of thanks, drinking from it deeply. “Honestly, I thought it was worse than fighting on the front,” she said, running her tongue over her teeth, where a few stray coffee grounds had lodged themselves. “I was terrified of being ambushed the whole two weeks we were there.”

“I remember,” Asuma smiled easily. “You put so many godsdamned genjutsu over our campsite I got lost one night after coming back from the latrines. Turns out I was just turning in circles while you were snoring peacefully in your bedroll.”

Behind her, the door to the room opened and then slammed shut, claws clicking against the floorboards.

“Sorry for the delay,” Hana said, striding across the room and pulling out a chair at the round table where Shizune and Kakashi were already seated, heads bent over outpost logs. “The patrols took longer to debrief than I expected.”

She helped herself to a steaming mug of coffee, tearing open six sugar packets and spooning in a generous amount of powdered milk. The three ninken lay down at her feet in a mass of gray fur and twitching tails, inky black noses twitching as they took in the new scents of the room.

“Not at all,” Shizune demurred, shutting one of the thick logbooks closed. Kurenai took it as a sign that the meeting was finally getting underway and slid into the open seat by Kakashi, Asuma bookending him on the other side. “We appreciated the time for a little rest and refreshment.”

“‘fraid there won’t be much of that anytime soon,” Hana shook her head, hand curled around a gently steaming mug. “It’s been one shitshow after another here in Bokusouchi for the past month. What do you need to know?”

“Everything,” Shizune said simply.

 

* * *

 

“Twenty five days ago at around 1100 hours, the Earth Country customs office blew up.” Hana tapped the small splotch indicating the Iwagakure outpost on the other side of the Wareme river. It was a few kilometers west of the Konoha-Kusa outpost, with its own pier and military presence. “We immediately responded with a team of eight members, near about half the shinobi shinobi stationed here, ready to either repel an attack or lend manpower to dig survivors out.”

She paused for a moment, the sharp point of a claw digging into the oil-cloth and nearly piercing straight through. “My second, Tazawa Junichi, was in command of the squad. About fifteen minutes after he arrived on scene, his radio cut out and I lost contact with him. It took another fifteen minutes to mobilize a second squad and send them over to re-establish communications. By the time they got there, they only found three of the original eight. Two were dead, including Tazawa himself.”

Hana let out a controlled breath, withdrawing her hand from the map on the table. “General Gokuro, the commander of Iwa’s outpost, accused Tazawa of killing an Iwa shinobi and subsequently instigating a fight between his men and Tazawa’s squad. The second squad reported that the rest of the missing shinobi were under arrest and held under Iwa’s authority, as stipulated by the Treaty, and then turfed my men out, refusing to speak with anyone who wasn’t an official diplomat or flying a white flag.”

“Can the survivor confirm these details?” Shizune asked, frowning deeply.

Hana shook her head. “Mitsu’s injuries were serious enough that she had to be sent back home for intensive treatment. Once she was well enough to speak, Intel couldn’t get much out of her other than some brief memories of a fight with an Iwa ninja. She’d been concussed too badly.”

“Three people can keep a secret if the other two are dead,” Kakashi said in a light voice, twirling a pencil in one hand. It gleamed with a lethal light. “Sounds like someone’s tried very hard to make sure that what really happened that day doesn’t come to light.”

Hana gave him a rueful grin. “I’ve had so many Intel agents crawling up my ass that I’ve started to shit nothing but spooks, but no one can figure out what the hell happened. At least, not without freaking Iwa out even more and endangering the lives of my men.”

“How does the Daimyou’s presence figure into this?” Kurenai put in, looking down thoughtfully at the map spread over the table. “Or the lack thereof.”

Hana bared her canines, her eyes glittering with a fierce, feral light. “May he rot in hell, forever. A few days after everything went to hell, I had word from back home to try and contact the Ambassador over in Tamaishi. The next two weeks we ran our messenger hawks and chuunin runners ragged, coordinating messages from Tamaishi, here in Bokusouchi, and over at the Iwa outpost on the other side. We were so damned close--!” She slammed a fist down on the table, rattling the mugs and shaking the books. Underneath the table, the dogs began to growl.

“Five days ago, we stopped receiving word from Ambassador Hoshino and all the hawks we sent came back with their messages unread. This morning, General Gokuro sent this.” She dug deep into the front pocket of her flak vest, pulling out a slim white scroll emblazoned with the iridescent chakra seal of Iwa’s twin boulders. She tossed it onto the table and it unrolled slowly, revealing a message written in jagged, angry slashes.

THE DAIMYOU, MAY HE REIGN FOR TEN THOUSAND YEARS, WILL NO LONGER BE ABLE TO ATTEND THE NEGOTIATIONS.

FIVE DAYS REMAIN.

“Every time it seems like we take one step forward, something pushes us back two,” Hana snarled. “At this point, war seems almost preferable to this damned politicking and making like we like each other when we all know Iwa has a knife to our throats.”

Asuma picked up the scroll with long calloused fingers, tracing the watermark woven deep into the rice paper. “Five days?”

“As stipulated in the Treaty of Bokusouchi, each side has thirty days to negotiate violations of the treaty. We have five days left to get my men back before we lose our control over the situation and Iwa starts chopping off more than fingers.”

For a long moment, no one spoke.

“Okay,” Shizune breathed in deeply, raising her bowed head. “Let’s get to work. Kurenai and Kakashi, how does a trip over to Tamaishi sound?”

“It’s a four day journey by caravan,” Hana started to protest. “Even pushing yourself, it’s hard to run it in three.”

“Give me two,” Kurenai said decisively, tossing her long braid over her shoulder. “If the weather holds, we’ll be in the capital in less.”

“Kakashi?”

He ran a gloved hand through his hair, considering the map in front of him with a sleepy look. His silver shock of hair stood up even more, rippling with the faintest hints of static electricity. “Send Asuma instead,” he said finally. “I’ll be of more use here.”

Shizune shot him a deep, inscrutable look before nodding unhappily. “Fine. Asuma?”

Asuma gave her a two fingered salute. “I’m better suited for it anyway. Kakashi’s too much of a delicate flower to handle the journey, Kurenai would have to haul his ass halfway through.”

“My back thanks you,” Kurenai murmured, her mouth curving into a small, wicked smile.

Hana let out a sharp bark of laughter while Shizune rolled her eyes. “I need you two to track down the Ambassador, _quietly_ , and figure out what went wrong and where with the Daimyou. Something feels off there and I wouldn’t be surprised if the Ambassador’s being kept under careful watch. Be careful.”

“We can set you up with supplies and some paperwork before you go,” Hana spoke up. “Fake identification cards, disguise kits, whatever you need.”

Kurenai nodded and stood up from her seat, pushing her seat back. “Quickly, then. We’ll be leaving within the hour.”

“Got it,” Hana said, looking much better at the prospect of having something to do, and trotted out of the room, her ninken fast on her heels.

“We’ll need some sort of way to keep in contact since the team is being split half,” Shizune said, lacing her fingers together as she considered the problem. “It would be too much of a hassle to send messenger hawks with you and they’re far too visible. Do either of you have summons?”

Kakashi straightened in his seat. “Shizune-senpai,” he drawled, “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten so much about your dear kouhai.”

“Oh shut it,” Shizune said, elbowing his side. “I was asking Asuma and Kurenai since they need to send messages back here. Can your ninken help?”

Kakashi bit his thumb and his fingers flew through a dozen lightning-quick seals before he slammed his hands down on the table. There was a crack of displaced air as plumes of astral smoke erupted in the room.

“Ugh,” Pakkun said, as the smoke cleared. “I was in the middle of a really nice nap there.”

“Me too, buddy,” Kakashi said, reaching out and marking the dog’s forehead with a sigil in his own blood. “I’ve anchored you to our world for as long I can spare the chakra for an extended mission. I need you to stick with Kurenai and Asuma and act as a courier while they head over to Tamaishi.”

Pakkun swiveled his squat head around, dark bulging eyes brightening when they caught sight of Kurenai’s face. “I’m liking this mission already. See ya, boss.” He leapt off the table and into Kurenai’s arms, nuzzling happily in the crook of her elbow.

“If you give him a little bit of your blood, he’ll be able to track you anywhere,” Kakashi explained, his eye curving brightly. “So even when he pops over to Bokusouchi, he’ll be able to find his way back to you with return messages.”

“You keep your paws to yourself,” Kurenai informed the pug. “Or I’ll send you back to your master with your pelt skinned off.”

“And I’m gone,” Pakkun said, jumping ship and heading over to Asuma. He was smaller than Asuma’s boots and barely reached his ankles. Asuma picked him up carefully with one hand and settled him on a shoulder. The dog sneezed, then curled his chakra to stick himself onto the shoulder padding of Asuma’s flak vest.

“Guard yourselves well,” Shizune said, still seated at the table. Her arms were crossed over her chest, black brows angled deeply over her eyes. “It looks like Iwa is pushing for war and they won’t hesitate to kill for it. Keep me posted with daily messages.”

Kurenai and Asuma saluted her readily.

“We’ll be handling the negotiations on this side,” Shizune continued, “for as long as we can. We’ve got Konoha ninja waiting for us on the other side of the river.”

“We won’t disappoint them,” Kurenai said, the softness in his voice falling away to reveal tempered steel. “Let’s go finish what Iwa started.”

 

* * *

 

“Now as for you,” Shizune said, rounding on Kakashi the minute Asuma and Kurenai left the room. “Since you so badly wanted to stay here, I’m assigning you all the scut work.”

“Ah, the life of a kouhai, Kakashi said sadly, slumping forward in his chair. “You were always the cruelest senpai. What do you need me to do?”

“First things first, why _do_ you want to stay back?” Shizune cupped her chin with her hands, watching Kakashi with sharp, dark eyes. “Try and use words with more than one syllable in your answer.”

Cloth rustled as Kakashi shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think my skills are better suited to me being here.”

“Oh?” Shizune arched a brow. “Are you sure it’s not just you avoiding Tamaishi?”

It was almost terrifying, like having a flat-chested, black-haired Tsunade sitting in front of him, judging him and all of his life choices. “You’ve been talking with the Hokage,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

A glimmer of a smile appeared on Shizune’s face. “You could say something like that,” she said. “It took a long time to figure out who to send on the mission. She almost picked Gai, actually.”

“He has absolutely no subtlety,” Kakashi said instantly. Then he added, “But he wouldn’t have been a bad choice. He’d probably bludgeon Iwa into submission with sincerity.”

Shizune laughed, rocking forward on her chair and making the wood squeak unpleasantly. “Too bad he’s out on a mission out in Water Country for the foreseeable future.” She fell quiet and the bustling noise of an active outpost filtered through the war room.

Kakashi heard the clatter of dishes being washed up in the kitchen, several sets of footsteps walking across the heavy floorboards above them, the rhythmic _slick-snkt_ of a sword slowly sharpened on a whetstone. Even late at night, the outpost was filled with activity, the soft murmur of conversation occasionally punctuated with shouts and laughter, the sound of cards being shuffled and dealt across rough wooden tables, shinobi breathing and living and going about their daily routines. And underneath that all, an undercurrent of tension that shivered and scraped at Kakashi’s senses.

“Are you?”

Kakashi considered the question as he peered at Shizune’s round face, the black bangs falling into her big brown eyes. A few gray hairs at her temple glinted in the light and he remembered that she was already past thirty, a ripe old age for an active jounin from their generation or even an ex-ANBU medic.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I would have refused the mission or even gone to Tamaishi with Kurenai if I truly was. Maybe I’m wrong and I won’t be as useful, but I’ll definitely be more troublesome if I stay here in Bokusouchi.”

“And why’s that?” Shizune asked, tilting her head.

“Well,” Kakashi said, rubbing the back of his neck again, sheepish. “I’m pretty sure I killed General Gokuro’s son during the war.”

“Definitely troublesome,” Shizune sighed. “Damn it, Kakashi.”

“I did warn the Hokage,” Kakashi put in not at all helpfully, if the nasty look Shizune shot him was any indication.

“Just when I think this can’t get any worse,” Shizune grumbled as she scrubbed her face with her hands. “Okay, okay. If anything, this might even help. Or at least it’ll make it a lot more noteworthy.”

Kakashi recognized the look in Shizune’s eye-- it was the same one Naruto or the Hokage got right before they did something spectacularly, absolutely ridiculous like punch people into everlasting friendship or send him on missions like this.

“So here’s how it’ll go tomorrow morning…”

 

* * *

 

Shizune switched on the lights to the infirmary, the familiar white sheets and strong odor of bleach a balm to her tense nerves. Already, she could feel her heartbeat slow down and settle in a comfortable rhythm as she took in the neatly-made up cots lining one side of the room, the shelves of books, scrolls and medicinal herbs taking up another.

“Higuchi-sensei’s currently resting at the moment but he wouldn’t mind you coming in here anyway,” Hana said, leaning against the entranceway. “You’re free to poke around to your heart’s content and deal with any medical emergencies that might come your way tonight.”

Shizune turned around, bowing deeply. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Commander.”

“ _I_ should be the one thanking you,” Hana said, the edge of one canine worrying her bottom lip. A dog curled around her leg to peer placidly into the room before slinking away to find something more interesting. “Not only are you here to help figure out this whole crisis, but you’re a medic trained by the Hokage herself and willing to help out in the outpost infirmary. Higuchi-sensei’s capable enough, but now I’m not so worried that he might get overwhelmed in case the negotiations break down.”

“I’ll do my best so that won’t be a possibility,” Shizune said firmly. “But really, I’m just here to keep myself busy until I get tired enough to fall asleep.” She added with a small laugh, “I guess you could say I’m a little nervous.”

“I think I’ve forgotten what _not_ being nervous is like,” Hana admitted as she crossed and uncrossed her arms over her chest. “The whole past month has just been one constant ball of crazy. Once this is over, I think I might actually put in for a leave and go on a vacation, maybe hit up one of those resorts on the southern coasts and order all the drinks with the fruit sticks and umbrellas in them.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Shizune said wistfully. “I haven’t been on a vacation in years.”

Hana’s golden eyes slivered in a small wink. “Maybe we’ll go together, eh sensei?”

Shizune froze for a moment, then bent over in laughter as her cheeks flushed bright red. “Is that a proposition, Commander?”

“Think of it as an incentive to come out of those negotiations in one piece, “ Hana said airily. “By the way, where is Hatake-san? I haven’t seen him around since Sarutobi-san and Kurenai-sensei left for Tamaishi.”

“Oh,” Shizune grinned, still catching her breath. “He said he wanted one last look at the starlight before going out tomorrow morning, so he went out onto the rooftop.”

“Sounds morbid,” Hana observed. “Kind of like a ‘one last meal’ thing isn’t it? What is he even doing tomorrow anyway?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” Shizune said, with an impish look in her eye. “Think of it as an incentive to wake up early in the morning.”

 

* * *

 

[T - 4 DAYS]

The treaty had been signed on an island shaped by the Tsuchikage and the Hokage together in a joint chakra working that could be felt for hundreds of kilometers, rippling across borders until it seemed as if it would reach all the way to the ends of the world. Kakashi remembered standing by Minato-sensei’s side that day, Obito’s eye wide open so he too could watch as the two old men bent and molded nature with their combined will.

Time and water rounded the edges of the massive black rock that rose up like a jagged knife from the depths of the Wareme river but hadn’t dulled its impressive presence. It still glowed with chakra in the eye of the Sharingan, bare of any other living presence. At its very peak, the island was wet with the blood of two Kages. A small handful to end the generation’s worth that had been spilled during the war.

Towards the east, the first of the morning light began to filter through the horizon, golden rays fracturing through the morning mist. Behind him, Shizune flared her chakra in signal.

Kakashi rolled up the bottoms of his jounin blues and checked the white armband tied around his right bicep. Time to go.

He stepped onto the murky waters of the Wareme river and began the slow, steady trek to the island shore. His toes were wet and squelchy by the time he reached the far edge of the island and he climbed onto the rock quickly, careful not to cut himself on the sharp obsidian glass scattered across the shore. A conjured bit of wind and heat quickly dried his soaked trousers as he walked up the island’s incline.

Kakashi passed by the large plateau normally used as a neutral meeting ground and a message drop point. He saw old remnants of campfires littered across the empty space, a rusty abandoned kunai lodged in one rock, old ration bar wrappers tumbling through as the wind playfully pushed it along; all evidence of the miserable chuunin runners that had been sent here continuously for the past month to send messages to the other side.

He ascended even higher, clambering up a sheer cliff face with his fingertips and a touch of chakra, and headed towards the peak. He was nearly six hundred meters above sea level before he finally ran out of island to climb. Below him, the river crawled across the land like a fat ugly snake, giant fungi forests rising up from the ground like bizarre multi-colored umbrellas. Kakashi shaded his eyes with a hand, the other bracing himself on the black lava spire rising up into the sky.

A few kilometers down the eastward section of the Wareme river he could make out the barest hints of stone rubble, vines and leaves and grass growing over it in a verdant carpet. The remnants of Kannabi bridge glimmered blindingly in the morning dawn; Kakashi rubbed at Obito’s aching, stinging eye, his fingers coming away wet with tears.

His gray eye looked on steadily at the rest of the world, dry.

“I suppose it’s fitting we come back here, huh?” Kakashi said idly, to nobody in particular, and let go of the spire.

His hands flickered through ten quick seals as black, boiling clouds began to grow in the clear sky above him, their curves and edges billowing out around the epicenter of the spire for a good fifty meters. The air became hot and heavy, the pressure in Kakashi’s ears growing past the point of hearing. His bones ached from built up chakra waiting to be released; he felt as if he were being squeezed from the inside out, his skin stretched and filled with a terrible power.

The roiling clouds rumbled and roared.

“ _Come_ ,” Kakashi roared and called lightning down to his fist.

The sky split in half as pure white fire raced down from the heavens and struck the island spire, its light burning away all shadow and color. A heartbeat’s moment later the earth shook with a loud thunderclap and Kakashi threw his head back and laughed as the lightning in his own body reached out to meet the lightning in the sky, like calling to like, power calling to power.

It was terrifying, exhilarating, like dying a hundred deaths and living a thousand lives.

And then it was gone.

The lightning faded, the clouds dissipated and Kakashi found himself neatly glued to the island spire, half-naked. His sandals had melted into one being with the island rock, which in turn had been superheated into pure glass and slag. Kakashi poked glumly at his tattered jounin blues; they began disintegrating into ash and dust as he moved around.

“I hope that was noteworthy enough for you, senpai,” Kakashi muttered as he pried his feet from his ruined sandals.

 

* * *

 

“This way, Katou-san,” the chuunin bowed deeply, casting fearful looks up at the sky every so often. The jagged peak of the island, measuring some six hundred meters in length, had been pitch black earlier this morning. As of five minutes ago, it was almost completely transparent, taking on the blueish rose gold of the morning sky. Somewhere near its base, Shizune imagined Kakashi shimmying down shamelessly with nothing but a leaf loincloth for cover.

“You did bring the change of clothes I asked for, right?” she asked. “And the tents?”

“Right here, ma’am,” the chuunin assured her, patting the sealed scroll at his belt. “The meeting point’s only a few minutes away now.”

Shizune stretched her senses as far as they could go, tracking down the group of anxious chakra signatures headed straight for the island from the other side of the river. She quickened her step and hurried over to the neutral meeting grounds, overtaking the chuunin runner when she reached its edge.

Kakashi sat cross-legged in the center, looking half burnt to a crisp.

“Yo!” he said, waving at her. He’d managed to lose nearly all of his clothes and his customary Konoha hitai-ate was missing from his head. Upon closer inspection, Shizune found that Kakashi was holding the metal plate loosely in one hand, the material badly warped and twisted. Miraculously, his mask was still intact, though bits of it were charred and burned away.

“You look terrible,” Shizune told him, motioning towards the chuunin. The runner awkwardly handed her a scroll and Shizune briskly unsealed it, tossing a spare pair of jounin blues and underclothes over at Kakashi’s head. A pair of black sandals then flew over his head like an afterthought.

“As charming as always,” Kakashi muttered, tugging the remnants of his clothes off. More charred dust than fabric, there really wasn’t much to take off before he was completely naked, with the exception of the mask covering the lower half of his face.

Shizune sighed and trotted over, her hands glowing green. “Just a quick diagnostic sweep, alright?”

“Like I would pass up the chance to have you grope me,” Kakashi said absently, without any real meaning behind it. Shizune gently lay her hands on his bare collarbones, letting her chakra seep through his skin. She healed the inflammation in his burnt coils, cleared away the tension headache threatening to build up in the back of his head, and swept away the tiny blisters forming on his hands. His chest looked as if he had been badly sunburnt so Shizune coaxed new skin to grow in its place.

“All in all, not too bad,” Shizune said, leaning back on her heels as she admired her handiwork. Kakashi hastily shoved his shirt on as soon as Shizune finished with her work, a cloud of grime rising up in the air as he did so. His hair, impossibly, stood even _more_ on end.

“Though this wasn’t entirely what I had in mind.”

“You did ask for a spectacle,” Kakashi said, flexing his fingers as he slid on his favored finger-less armour-backed gloves. “So I gave you one. And the Iwa ninja too, I suppose.”

“Prodigies are the worst,” Shizune said and leaned over to flick Kakashi on the forehead. He didn’t even flinch, taking it placidly as he slid the sandals on. The metal plate of his forehead protector went into a trouser pocket.

“Have you finished getting ready?”

He looked up and made one of the funny eye smiles at her. “Yes,” he said and she stuck out a hand to haul him up easily. Behind her, the chuunin did his best to become one with the island rock and stayed quiet.

“Ah, here they come,” Kakashi said, shading his single eye with a gloved hand. “Look,” he said, pointing over at the very base of the island, where six crimson figures emerged from the water, dripping wet. Their chakra signatures were tightly coiled and controlled, each one ranked at least chuunin or higher.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Shizune dug into her belt pouch and pulled out two heavy golden medallions hung on leather thongs. On one side was engraved the spiral leaf of Konoha; on the other, the bold kanji for fire, representing the Daimyou of Fire Country. “Here,” she said, tossing one at him. “Your official recognition as a diplomat of Fire Country and Konoha, granted the power to speak in the Hokage and the Daimyou’s name.”

Kakashi caught it with nimble hands, raising it up in the air and squinting at it with the Sharingan. “Clever,” he said in a low voice before letting it fall around his neck. Shizune followed suit, the leather catching at her hair before it settled comfortably against the back of her neck.

“Now, your job is to look dangerous and stay quiet,” Shizune said, crossing her arms. “Think you can manage that?”

“Decorative sword, got it,” Kakashi said, mirroring her body language. “Can I at least make verbal threats?”

“I’ll think about it,” Shizune sighed, then straightened her shoulders as the first of the Iwa ninja strode into the meeting ground, bloody red cloak billowing at his wide seat shoulders. He looked more like a cliff face than a man, a massive square figure cut with harsh angles and jagged lines. His long gray hair was gathered in a simple topknot, pinned in place with a hairstick. The enormous ruby dangling off the end was the size of a pigeon’s egg.

His chakra threatened to press down on her, as unrelenting as the sun’s harshest rays. Still, Shizune reflected, compared to Tsunade-sama blazing inferno, General Gokuro’s chakra felt like a warm summer afternoon day, perfect for a leisurely nap.

“General Gokuro-sama,” Shizune smiled wide, bowing as one equal to another. “Konoha welcomes you to this sacred ground. Are you ready to begin?”


End file.
